Chapter 53- The Road That Breaks You
The road does not end.
It stretches endlessly ahead of us, swallowing time and distance alike until the days blur into something shapeless and cruel. Morning bleeds into night. Night collapses into morning. And somewhere between the two, I lose track of what it feels like to exist without pain.
We should have reached Kyrian by now.
I know that.
I've walked these roads before on foot, barefoot, carrying baskets too heavy for my arms when I was younger. I remember how long it takes. I remember how the land shifts, how the air changes, how the trees thin the closer you get to the walls.
We should be there.
But we're not.
Because they keep stopping.
Every few hours, the men grow restless. They complain.
They laugh. They decide they've traveled far enough for the day even when the sun still hangs high in the sky.
They set up camp like they are not carrying something precious, something fragile like they are not dragging me further from safety with every delay.
Then the night comes.
And they drink.
They drink like the world is ending and they want to greet it laughing.
They drink until their voices grow louder, until their hands grow heavier, until their patience disappears entirely.
And every night
They remember me.
The first night was bad.
The second was worse.
By the third, I stopped expecting it to end.
Now, I simply endure.
Because endurance is all I have left.
I sit with my back pressed against the rough bark of a tree, the rope around my wrists cutting into skin that has long since given up trying to heal.
Every shift of my hands sends a sharp, burning reminder through my arms, but I barely react anymore.
Pain has become something constant. Something expected. Something I no longer question.
The ground beneath me is cold despite the warmth of the day that came before it. Small stones dig into my legs, into my hips, into my spine, but I don't move.
Moving only makes everything worse.
So I stay still.
And I watch.
My gaze lifts slowly, drawn to something I recognize long before I truly see it.
Kyrian.
Even from here, even from this distance, I know it.
The walls rise against the horizon like a memory I cannot escape. The gates stand tall, the banners hanging in familiar colors, the stone catching what little light remains in the sky.
We are still two days away.
Two days.
It feels like a lifetime.
I stare at the castle for a long moment, my chest tightening in a way that has nothing to do with pain.
It looks smaller.
That's the first thing I notice.
Smaller.
Less overwhelming than I remember.
Less
Important.
When I was younger, it felt enormous. Endless. Like something too grand for someone like me to even look at properly. I remember standing at the gates and feeling like I would disappear if I stepped inside.
Now...
Now it just looks like stone.
Like walls.
Like something that failed to protect me when it mattered.
I swallow hard.
Because the memories come whether I want them to or not.
I remember being here as a servant's daughter running through halls I wasn't meant to be in, carrying trays I wasn't meant to touch, listening to conversations I wasn't meant to hear.
I remember the way people looked through me instead of at me, the way I learned to exist quietly so no one would notice I was there at all.
I remember leaving.
Not as a servant.
But as something else.
Something I didn't fully understand at the time.
A princess.
Even if they never said it out loud.
Even if it was whispered instead of declared.
And now
Now I could return as a queen.
The thought feels distant.
Unreal.
Because I know something I didn't know then.
If I go back through those gates
I won't come back out.
Not this time.
The realization settles quietly in my chest.
Not panic.
Not yet.
Just truth.
A sound pulls me from my thoughts.
A low, broken groan.
"Elías?"
My head turns quickly, my body tensing despite the ache that follows the movement.
He lies a few feet away, his body barely shifting at first, then moving slightly as awareness forces its way back into him. His breath catches, sharp and uneven, his entire frame flinching as pain reaches him before clarity does.
Chains.
Wrapped around his wrists.
His ankles.
Heavy enough that even breathing seems like too much effort.
My chest tightens.
"Elías," I whisper again, softer this time.
His eyes open slowly.
And when they find me
Relief floods them.
So quickly.
So completely.
It makes something inside me crack.
But it doesn't last.
Because then he sees me.
Really sees me.
The bruises.
The marks.
The way I hold myself too still because moving hurts too much.
The way the moonlight doesn't hide anything it reveals everything.
Shock spreads across his face.
Then anger.
Sharp.
Immediate.
Terrifying.
"Who did this to you?" His voice is rough, barely holding itself together.
I shake my head quickly.
"It doesn't matter."
"It matters to me."
The words come out stronger.
Too strong for someone in his condition.
He tries to push himself up.
He shouldn't.
He can't.
The movement sends a sharp, broken sound through him, his entire body tensing as pain drags him back down. His breath shudders, his hand curling against the ground as if he can grip something solid enough to pull himself out of it.
"Don't," I say quickly, my voice soft but urgent. "Please....don't move."
He ignores me.
Of course he does.
He always has.
"I'll kill them," he says, his voice low now, dangerous in a way that almost feels familiar.
For a second.
I believe him.
Because I've seen what he can do.
Because I know what he is capable of.
Because I know he would.
But then I look at him.
At the chains.
At the wounds.
At the way his body trembles just from trying to sit up.
And I shake my head again.
"No."
The word comes out firmer this time.
"You won't."
His jaw tightens.
"I will."
"You'll die."
The truth lands between us.
Heavy.
Unavoidable.
He stills.
And I swallow hard.
"If you try," I continue, quieter now, more careful, "you'll die."
A pause.
"And then I'll be alone."
The words slip out before I can stop them.
Too honest.
Too real.
His expression changes.
Something in it softens.
Breaks.
"Kid..." he breathes.
I shake my head quickly, wiping at my face when I realize tears are falling.
"I'm fine," I say, too quickly. "I'll be fine."
The lie sounds weak.
Even to me.
He tries to move closer.
Even with the chains.
Even with the pain.
And I pull back.
Instinct.
Fear.
I don't even think about it.
I just...
Move.
The moment it happens, I regret it.
But it's too late.
He sees it.
The realization hits him like a blow.
Worse than anything they've done to him.
Because this...
This is something he cannot fight.
"I'm sorry," he says quietly.
The words confuse me.
"Why?"
His gaze drops.
Then lifts again.
"I should've protected you."
My chest tightens painfully.
"You did."
"I failed."
"No."
My voice breaks.
"You didn't."
But he shakes his head.
"Yes, I did."
A pause.
Then his voice changes.
Not a captain.
Not a warrior.
Something else.
Something softer.
Something that feels too much like..
A father.
"Listen to me," he says carefully.
I still.
Because something in his tone makes me.
"If you get the chance..." he continues, slower now, more deliberate, "you run."
My head shakes immediately.
"No."
"Yes."
"No."
His voice hardens slightly.
"Ophelia."
I freeze.
He never says my name like that.
Not like this.
"You run," he repeats. "You don't look back. You don't wait for me."
"I'm not leaving you."
"You are."
"No."
"Yes."
The word cracks through me.
"You are leaving me if you get the chance," he says, his voice steady despite everything. "You forget about me. You forget about them. You forget about everything except getting home."
Home.
The word hurts.
"I can't," I whisper.
"You can."
"I won't."
He exhales slowly.
Then shifts slightly, wincing as he reaches toward his boot.
It takes too much effort.
Too much pain.
But eventually..
He pulls something free.
A small dagger.
Simple.
Worn.
He holds it out toward me.
"Take it.hide it"
My hands tremble slightly as I reach for it, the metal cool against my skin as I take it from him.
he says. "Just in case."
My fingers tighten around it.
"You use it if you have to," he continues. "Last resort."
A pause.
"Then you run."
Tears blur my vision.
"I'm not leaving you."
His expression softens.
"You have to when it gets too much."
The words are quiet.
Certain.
"And when it does.."
His gaze locks onto mine.
"You run."
My chest feels like it's breaking.
"I'll find you," he adds softly. "No matter what it takes."
A faint, broken smile touches his lips.
"Even if it's my last breath."
I shake my head
A shadow falls over us.
Heavy.
Cold.
Unwelcome.
A hand grabs my arm.
Rough.
Unforgiving.
I don't fight it.
I don't struggle.
I don't give them that.
I let them pull me up.
I let the pain settle into my bones.
I let the fear stay where it is
Locked behind everything else.
as they drag me away